


Forever

by Davechicken



Series: The Pilot and his Knight [24]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:23:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6557185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sun peeks in on two lovers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poetdameron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetdameron/gifts).



> For @poetdameron: remember the moon holds all the sun's secrets, and either one will stand above your head no matter the hour.

There is no need to get up, not for hours. Kylo’s inner clock tells him that, even now he’s more _civilian_ than _soldier_. A part of his mind always knows what time it is, when he’s next needed, where he is. It’s like a section has been walled off to keep track of those things, so the rest of him can relax.

Which means he can. Right here, right now. He can relax. He can feel the way the sheets have bunched in the night, how his restless sighing has rucked up the bottom layer under one ankle. He counts the creases dully, wondering if everyone has to change their sheets daily, or if the magic ever fades. It hasn’t thus far: more nights than not, they exchange love and orgasms, which makes Kylo very happy indeed. Of course, they don’t always _make it_  to the bed. 

His little toe slips over the fabric mountains, remembering the night before with fondness. The sun is creeping in, poking over the horizon and trying to steal a glimpse of their love nest. Through the slanted shutter-blinds she rakes hot slashes, like a tiger-stripe across his exposed hip and thigh. If he moves his head, the soft browns turn to hot pinks under his eyelids, and his smile widens.

Home. Warm. Safe. Loved. He is all of those things, and more.

Beside him in the bed, dipping the mattress down with his own weight, lies Poe Dameron. His Poe, his beloved. The Light of his life, the course for - and direction of - his journey. Pilot, Commander, best friend, soul mate. Kylo listens for his breathing before he realises the only reason he can’t hear it is that they’re in sync. In-out. In-out. He imagines the way his lover’s chest would expand - ribs spreading to greet the air - and collapse. He imagines the warm, clever hands tangled in the sheets, or the way his hair would fall in a dark crown around his head on the pillow. The twitch in his upper thigh when he was dreaming, the soft, smudgy smile on those perfectly chiselled lips. His own lips curl in memory and satisfaction. Poe. His Poe.

Clearly his stirrings have awoken the slumbering pilot - or his beloved was awake and waiting - because there’s movement. Kylo’s eyes have decided they do not want to be open yet, and his lips are too dry to part when he attempts it. He feels the press of stubble-rough cheek to the side of his neck, and he smiles at the lazy kisses. They start at his lips and push his head to the side so they can carry on down the curve of his face. Peck, peck, peck. Dry little kisses and then a swipe of hot tongue. Kylo offers his throat in submission, in adoration, and accepts the slide of saliva over his pulse. He tries to blink his eyes open again, but then Poe’s hands urge him onto his back, and he goes. 

The covers slide around them, and Poe slips between the comforter and Kylo, a warmer blanket by far. His weight lies flat on Kylo’s stomach, and there’s hands on his waist. 

“P-poe…”  


“Shhh,” comes the tickle, against his collarbone. “Shhh.”  


His hands find Poe’s hair, and he sleepily strokes through it. The dark tousles, the soft curls that part and sway around his whirling fingertips. He scrunches through, drawing over his scalp and coaxing little purrs from him.

Poe’s kisses wander, mapping his chest as if following a course long-since plotted. They digress over his pale skin, suckling soft pink marks into his hide. Down, down, his hair tickling as he opens wide and laps over one nipple. No sting of bite, no touch of teeth, just that cavern of tongue that has him writhing underneath his lover. Poe’s weight across his hips keeps him down, but it doesn’t stop him bucking. 

“Oh… oh yes…”  


That’s apparently allowed, as Poe laughs and kisses and soft-mouth bites across to the other side. He slurps messily, and Kylo wriggles. He wants to part his legs properly, but Poe is straddling him too tight, and he can’t. Can’t, even as Poe slides backwards - chest stroking down - and cat-laps over his flat torso. The scars there are laved over, the old hurt kissed better. The gaps that healed silver only serve as a place for Poe to adore more. Kylo manages to slit his eyes open in time to see Poe vanish between his thighs. They’re still naked from the night before - it’s how they normally sleep - and there’s a rub of hair against his groin first, making him giggle slightly and whack at him.

“Not like that!”  


Poe snorts, and drops his chin on his hip. “What, babe?”

“You know what.” His eyes do open then, and they share a loving look.   


“Not sure I do…” but Poe behaves, then and uses his tongue to slide against the morning flush between his thighs. His cock curls against his leg, half-full, and he feels a flush of arousal like a drop of boiling water melting a sheet of ice. It spreads from his core, seeping out and through his veins. Out, out, and even his thighs melt in the chocolate heat. Another lick, slow and dragging, and Kylo finds Poe’s head again. He holds him gently as his lover wraps his lips around the head and suckles softly. There is no rush, no mad dash. No pressing battle to fight, and he can take Poe’s mouth as slowly as he likes. Can let Poe bob up and down, with only their patience their mutual enemy.   


Poe’s mouth is sinful and lovely, his lips tight and soft. The soft bed of his tongue welcomes him in, though he doesn’t go all the way down. His hand fists over the base, slow and sure, and Kylo is both maddened and delighted. He wants to force him down, to make him choke… and he wants him to continue this delicious torment forever. Forever, and ever, and ever. He moans, and settles for halfway. Gently pushing him down, and pulling him up. Little vibrations in his mouth, giving him such tender, sweet bliss. A hand cups his balls, a thumb sliding between the two nuts and tugging the skin taut. He calls louder, and kicks at the bed weakly.

“Please… Poe…”  


A slurpy noise, and more grins. “Yes, Ky, babe?”

“Fingers… please. I need your fingers.”  


He doesn’t like to ask, but ask and you shall receive. There’s a moment of Poe doing _wicked_ things to his own fingers, then one of them draws half-dry circles around his rim as his mouth descends again. Around, around, and then it gently breaches him. He’s still loose from the night before, and relaxed in general, but the feeling of being spread wide on his finger is delicious and Kylo drops down onto it, carefully fucking himself between hand and mouth. One wet hole, one tight fill. Up and down, up and down, back and forth, back and forth. He feels the arousal build like a sound system flooding the room with noise, building to a crescendo, but barely imperceptible the jump from one step to the next. 

Kylo sighs in pleasure, and tugs Poe’s hair, pulling him up and away from his crotch, up for a kiss. Their tongues slide together, swapping secrets that never stay secret for long, and he urges him to lay his forehead against his own.

“What do you want, love?”  


“Want _you_.”  


“You have me,” Poe promises, and keeps that finger fucking him slowly. So slowly, twirling around inside his tight pucker. It sends electric pulses through him, inches his cock ever higher.  


“I want _you_ , inside me. Where you belong. The Light in my life, the Light in me.”  


“Did you just refer to my dick as the Light, oh love of my life?”  


“Stick it in me and we’ll see?”  


Poe laughs, and they roll in a tangle of limbs, still with that finger inside of him. Poe takes them closer to the dresser, grabbing the lube, then rolling them back. 

“Ride me?” Poe asks.  


Kylo pushes Poe onto his back, and arches up and off his hand. He grabs the bottle from his pilot, pouring plenty of the sticky goop out into his hands. He warms them both, then weaves his hands around Poe’s poor, ignored cock. Eyes on him as he twists them up, down, up, down. Poe moans in pleasure, and Kylo grins. 

That should do.

He moves to sit astride him, letting the slick shaft slap between his cheeks. Up, up, and he holds his firm length still enough to make a seat of it. His fingers and toes clench, as he prepares for the entry. Gravity helps, and he rocks lower, lower, feeling him push inside. Wider, wider, widest and oh - oh… so full. That satisfaction of them colliding, of the spaces between them gone to nothing. His atoms whirling through Poe’s, and Poe’s Force whirling through him. 

A smile, a sigh, a knowledge that this is _them_ , now. This is them. Happy, close, snug. The lazy mornings of contentment, the subtle burn in his thighs. He puts his hands on Poe’s chest and rolls his hips, getting that thuddy, rough coupling sensation all the way through.

“I love you, flyboy,” Kylo blurts out.  


“I love you, too, Ky.”  


The sun strokes longer fingers into the room, jealous of their love, and Kylo takes his sweet time driving them both deeper into that sultry, sticky-sheeted oblivion of peaceful love. Over and over and over until his beloved pulls him down and kisses the response into his mouth.

A wordless promise, delivered with his whole body, as he comes inside of him. A salty streak down his thighs, and Kylo grabs his own hair in dismayed adoration as Poe strokes his cock to his own completion. He doesn’t stop, even when the ropey mess splashes his chest and jaw, and Kylo drops to lick it clean, lapping his seed from his beloved’s sweat-hot skin.

“Forever,” Poe whispers.  


“Forever.”  


The sun takes the stolen words to whisper across the face of the moon. 

 _Forever_.


End file.
